Title: "Into the Arms of Darkness"
Author: Bri
Rating: PG, for mild blood. Not that bad, really.
Disclaimer: It all belongs to Crack-Whore Whedon and his evil little
minion, David Greenwalt, although I'm sure everyone agrees by now that he
doesn't deserve them. :::pouting:::
Summary: Doyle dies. 'Nuff said.
Distribution: Anyone, anywhere. Just let me know so I can come visit from
time to time.
Author's Notes: This was written as soon as I found out that Doyle was
going to die :::loud sobbing::: and so the actual death and the events
surrounding it deviate a little bit from Joss's script. Not that we were
particularly happy with Joss's version anyway, but. . . :::shrugging:::
what can you do? Also, as it stands right now this is a stand-alone fic.
However, if anyone wants to continue it (because to me, it sounds like it
should be continued, but I can't come up with anything because my college
brain is crammed with precalculus and Ethics philosophers) then please feel
free. Again, just let me know so I can bug you about it. "Are you done yet?
Are you done yet?" *grin*
And now, on to the fic.


"Into the Arms of Darkness"

"Doyle! Oh God, please, no, Doyle!" Sobbing hysterically, Cordelia Chase
sank to her knees on the rough pavement, uncaring that her silk hose were
more than likely suffering numerous runs. She cradled the dark head in her
lap, tears streaming down her face. "God, Doyle, please, you can’t leave!
You can’t die! I won’t let you!" Looking around frantically, she spied the
dark-haired man responsible for her being there. "Angel! God, help, Angel!
Doyle’s hurt!"

Angel made quick work of the vampire he was fighting and made his way to
his friends. "Cordy, what’s going on?" he demanded in that dark,
no-nonsense voice of his.

Cordelia stared up into his frowning face, her eyes still brimming. "Doyle
got it in his head that he could defeat the demon. He’s going to die,
Angel!" She pleaded silently with him to do anything to stop it from
happening.

Doyle coughed and Cordelia’s gaze flew to his pained face. "Cordy, it’s
gonna be okay," he promised, a weak half-smile appearing on his face.
"Sure, I’ll die, but think how that’ll bring realism ta yer auditions," he
teased faintly as he struggled to sit up.

Cordelia stared at him in horror. "Doyle, how can you joke about that?" she
wailed. "You’re going to die. You’re going to leave me!"

Doyle’s heart ached that he was causing Cordelia so much pain. "Cordy, ye
know I wish I didna have ta leave ye. I’d give ennathin’ ta be able to stay
right here wit ye and hold ye in me arms ferever. That’s just not the way
things is supposed ta go. I’m supposed ta die here and ye’re supposed to be
rich an’ famous an’ make the world fall at yer feet an’ adore ye, just like
I do. It weren’t supposed ta be ye that dies here, it’s me," he gasped out.
His breathing was labored and he couldn’t hold himself up. He sank back and
Cordelia held him against her chest.

Cordelia choked back a sob. "Doyle, there’s so much I should have done
differently," she whispered. "I should have told you I cared, instead of
ridiculing you and pushing you away. Now I don’t have the chance. I’m never
going to get to see you again."

"Cordy, don’t go sayin’ things like that," Doyle protested. "I know that we
both would have done things differently if we’d known that I was goin’ ta
die. We didna know, so we canna regret what we *did* do. I kissed ye,
Cordelia Chase, an’ I could never be sorry fer it. I can only be sorry I
didna do it sooner."

Cordelia’s lips curved into a trembling smile as she remembered the feel of
Doyle’s lips on hers, the sweet, insistent pressure that had numbed her
brain so much that she’d let Doyle run out to face the demon without her.
Shaking badly, she lowered her face to his, kissing him again. She was
careful not to overdo it, since he was struggling to breathe as it was. She
brushed his lips lightly with hers, unheeding of the salty tears that wet
both their faces, that mingled with the taste of his kiss on her lips.
"Doyle, when you die, take the image of me with you. I could have loved
you, if I’d only let myself."

Doyle smiled painfully. "I didna know ye long enough ta love ye, but had I
had the time, I swear ta ye not even God Himself coulda stopped me from
it." His face flashed with pain and he choked on blood that gushed from his
mouth. Cordelia’s horrified face shrank back from the spurting, coppery red
liquid. When it passed, she ripped a piece of her shirt off and wiped the
blood from his lips.

"I *will* love you, Doyle," she vowed. "Every day of my life. I’ll never
forget you."

"Then me time here wasn’t a total waste," Doyle joked with his remaining
breath. "It’s good ta know that I meant somethin’ ta someone."

"You’ll always mean the world to me," Cordy promised, her eyes welling up
once again with tears.

Giving her a faint, but loving, smile, Doyle took his last breath in
Cordelia’s arms.